Here, however, I speedily perceived that it was not a case of one cavern, but several—­opening out, by natural archways one into another.  I walked eagerly through them, scanning their ceilings for sign of some outlet into the upper air; but in vain.  Still, after the strangling embrace of those tunnels, it was good to have so much space to breathe and walk about in.  In fact, I had stumbled on something like a Monte Cristo suite of underground apartments.  And here for a moment I released my imagination from her blinders, and allowed her to play around these strange halls.  And in one of her suggestions there was some comfort.  It was hardly likely that caverns of such extent had waited for me to discover them.  They must surely have been known to Teach, or whatever buccaneer it was who had occupied the ruined mansion not so very far above-ground.  What better place could be conceived for his business?  It was even likely—­more than likely, almost certain—­that there was some secret passageway connecting this series of caves with the old house—­if one could only find it.  And so the dear creature prattled on to me, till I thought it was time to blindfold her again—­and return to business.

Still, there was something in what she had said, and I set about the more carefully to examine every nook and corner.  And, if I didn’t find anything so splendid as she had dreamed, I did presently find evidence that, as she had said, I was not the first human being to stand where now I stood.  Two iron staples imbedded in one of the walls, with rusting chains and manacles attached, were melancholy proof of one of the uses to which the place had once been put.  Melancholy for certain unhappy souls long since free of all mortal chains, but for me—­need I say it?—­exceedingly joyous.  For if there had been a way to bring prisoners here, it was none the less evident that there had been a way to take them out.  But how and where?  Again I searched every nook and cranny.  There was no sign of entrance anywhere.

Then a thought occurred to me.  What if the entrance were after the manner of a mediaeval oubliette—­through the ceiling!  There was a thought indeed to send one’s hopes soaring.  I ran in my eagerness through one cavern after another, holding my lantern aloft.  That must be the solution.  There could be no other way.  I sought and sought, but alas! it was a false hope, and I threw myself down in a corner in despair, deciding that the prisoners must have been forced to crawl in as I had—­though it was hardly like jailers to put themselves to such inconvenience.

I leaned back against the wall and gazed listlessly upward.  Next moment I had bounded to my feet again.  Surely I had seen some short regular lines running up the face of the rock, like a ladder.  I raised my lantern.  Sure enough, they were iron rounds set in the face of the rock, and they mounted up till I lost them in the obscurity, for the cave here must have been forty feet high.  Blessed heaven!  I was saved!